


Broken But For A Few Crumbs

by Buckets_Of_Stars



Series: Peter Whump Dump [12]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Bones, Complete, Crying, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Italian Tony Stark, Kid Peter Parker, Mama Bear Tony Stark, Mild Blood, One Shot, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Prompt Fill, Protective Tony Stark, Resetting Bones, Son Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, dad tony stark, it gets a tiny bit graphic guys but nothing that bad, just a small warning though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 20:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/pseuds/Buckets_Of_Stars
Summary: All Peter wanted was a cookie from the top shelf. That's it. Now, on top of interrupting Tony in a very important meeting, the boy has a broken hand and a very worried father he has to deal with.Oh, boy is he screwed.





	Broken But For A Few Crumbs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loubuttons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loubuttons/gifts).



> Dedicated to the amazing @loubuttons on Tumblr. I'm very sorry you were so sad, my dude, and I hope this helps at least a little bit <3 
> 
> And I hope the rest of you enjoy as well! Thanks for all the support guys and I hope you enjoy my first full one-shot of 2019! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.

* * *

 

The second Peter didn’t feel the counter top below him, he knew he was going down. 

 

The kitchen floor rushes to greet him, his scream of terror getting lodged in his throat as he flails, trying in vain to grab onto the refrigerator. He sails in the air for a second, just long enough that he knows the impact is going to hurt, before he slams into the ground. 

 

His left arm, the first thing to hit the tile, snaps with a sickening crunch as his entire body weight slams down. 

 

Peter lays there, sucking in air as his whole being thumps with pain. Sitting up with his right hand, the boy can’t stop the sob that bubbles up. 

 

His left arm is almost completely bent in half. 

 

His wrist is twisted, his hand turning a steady shade of purple-blue and Peter lets out a small whimper as he shifts a little. Slowly, he stands up, using the counter as leverage as he cradles his obviously broken hand closer to his chest. 

 

“F-Friday?” He calls out, his voice watery. 

 

_“Yes, Peter?”_ The A.I responds immediately and Peter chokes on another sob. 

 

“Where’s Dad?” 

 

Hissing as his body throbs, Peter starts to make his way to the elevator. The room spins a little and he has to stop, resting his un-injured hand on the wall and leaning against it, gasping. His vision is blurry with tears. 

 

_“Boss is currently out at a meeting. Would you like me to call him for you?”_

 

Letting out a muffled curse, Peter shakes his head, already turning around and going toward the stairs instead. “N-No, I’m fine. Don’t bother him.”

 

_“I am sensing that you are in pain, Peter. As per the ‘Need A Band-aid’ Protocal, I’m afraid I cannot allow that. Hold on while I contact him, it should only take a moment.”_

 

“No, wait Friday! Don’t c-call him, I’m fine!” Raising his right hand up, the 14-year-old lets out a groan as the A.I ignores his pleads. 

 

Letting out a huff, the boy is just about to do the ultimate ‘I Told You So’ in the history of everything when Tony finally answers on the very last ring, his tone muffled. 

 

“This better be good, Fri, otherwise I’m donating you to the nearest community college.” 

 

And Peter can’t stop his cry. It rises, unbidden, at the sound of his father’s voice and the spiderling immediately puts his hand over his mouth, eyes widening. 

 

“Friday?” Tony’s voice goes from laid-back to sharp in a split second. “What the hell was that?” 

 

Friday responds before Peter can open his mouth.  _“Peter appears to be in severe distress, Boss, and needs assistance immediately.”_

 

_“What?!”_ Tony spits out, the sound of paper rustling and muffled talking getting cut off as he seems to race out of whatever office building he was in. “Is he okay? Can he talk? Friday, put Peter through right now.” 

 

_“He can hear and respond, Boss.”_

 

“Peter?” Tony is speaking directly to him now, and the boy swallows at the blatant panic in the genius’s voice. “ _Bambino_ , can you answer me please?”

 

“H-Hi, Dad.” Peter answers, wincing as his voice cracks. “What’s up?” 

 

The sound of thrusters fills the speaker before it’s gone. “Oh nothing much, buddy. Just the usual, going to a meeting, pretending to listen as old men babble on…Oh! and I almost forgot– talking to my kid as he stands in the middle of the living room crying.” 

 

Peter blanches. “What-how can-I-I mean–” 

 

“Cameras, kiddo, they can be used for more than just selfies. Now, want to tell me what happened or do I have to ask Friday again?” 

 

Wincing, Peter ducks his head and sniffs, cursing himself as tears fill his eyes once more. “I fell from the kitchen counter.” 

 

This time, it’s Tony’s turn to be surprised. “You fell– Peter, what the _hell_ were you doing on the kitchen counter?” 

 

Shifting, the young Stark blushes a little. “I wanted cookies and-and you left them up there from yesterday.” 

 

Tony lets out a harsh sigh. “Spider-baby, what am I gonna do with you?” 

 

Peter starts to shrug, but the movement rattles his arm and he bits his lip, his muffled cry of pain spilling from his clenched teeth. Shutting his eyes, the boy finally begins to let the pain that has been building out, his sob bursting from his chest like a water balloon. 

 

“Oh, _miele.”_ Tony breathes out, all snark gone from his voice. “I’m almost there, okay? Just hold on for a bit longer.” 

 

“It hurts.” Peter whines, the burning fire in his arm blazing like a million infernos. “Dad, _it hurts so bad_.” 

 

“Shh, I know, baby, I know. I’m almost there, just a little longer. You’re so brave, bud, so fucking brave.” 

 

Peter can’t stop his begging now, though. His arm hurts and his head is fuzzy and he just wants his dad. 

 

“Please, p-please hurry, please. Daddy, it _burns._ ” He repeats over and over, crying in earnest now. “Please, I need y-you to make it better.”  

 

Tony shushes him, his gentle words surrounding the boy like a safe blanket. Finally, after what feels like a million years, the sound of mental boots against hardwood echos in the penthouse and Peter’s head shoots up. His eyes continue to spill tears, the Iron Man suit stopping in front of the boy. 

 

It opens to reveal Tony, the man’s eyes flickering from his child’s face to the hand he has cradled. Dropping to his knees, the billionaire gathers Peter in his arms, careful to not bump his kid’s left arm. 

 

“I’m here now, _tesoro.”_ Tony whispers, brushing away Peter’s tears with a gentle hand. “I’m right here and I’m gonna make it stop hurting, alright?” 

 

Peter nods, nuzzling closer and sniffling. “O-Okay.” 

 

“I’m gonna stand us up now. Careful, buddy, hold onto me. Are you dizzy, did you hit your head when you fell?” 

 

“No, I-I don’t think so. Dad, Dad, it hurts. I’m sorry.” Peter claws at his father, his socked feet slipping on the hard floor. “I’m so sorry, I know I-I shouldn’t have been on the counter.” 

 

Tony’s voice is so gentle, if Peter wasn’t already crying he would have started to. “Hey, no, none of that right now, kiddie. Let’s just get this arm of yours looked at and then I can do the ‘Disappointed Dad Speech’. Just focus on me right now.” 

 

Hanging his head, Peter obediently shuffles toward the already opened elevator with his father, holding onto the man’s shirt with his un-injured hand. They clamber into the elevator, Tony pressing a quick kiss against Peter’s forehead before stepping into the Med-Bay when it stops once more. 

 

“Fri, where’s Brucie?” Tony asks, leading Peter over to an open bed. “Nevermind, just tell him we need him right now.” 

 

_“Yes, Boss.”_

 

Helping Peter up into the bed, the billionaire has just turned back around when Dr. Banner bursts into the room, shrugging on a medical coat. Crossing the room, the mutant pushes up his glasses, his face pinched with worry. 

 

“Peter?” Bruce asks as he pulls on gloves. “Kiddo, can I look at your arm please?” 

 

Nodding, Peter hides his face in Tony’s chest as he holds out his throbbing arm, wincing and choking on a cry when Bruce gently prods the bent appendage. 

 

“It’s definitely broken.” His uncle says quietly, carefully twisting Peter’s arm so that he can feel along his elbow. “I’m just going to do an X-Ray just in case, alright?”

 

Tony speaks up for the first time since Bruce entered, his chest vibrating against Peter’s cheek. The boy curls closer, wincing. Reaching up, Tony gently cards his hand through his son’s hair, shushing him. 

 

“Do we have anything we can give him for the pain?” The genius practically pleads. “Anything at all?” 

 

“We can try some of the Super Solider based anesthesia, I’ve got some left over from when Steve was hurt a few weeks ago.” 

 

“Are you sure it will work though?” 

 

“Not one hundred percent sure, but it should help at least a little bit.” Bruce sighs, looking down at the other Avenger from behind his glasses. “Look, Tony, this going to be hard for him and I’m doing everything I can.”

 

Tony lets out a harsh breath. “I know.” 

 

Quickly giving Peter a small shot into his right arm, Bruce pulls the I.V stand closer as the bed. The drugs seem to take effect, and Peter relaxes against Tony’s side. 

 

“How are you feeling, Peter?” Bruce asks.

 

Peter looks up, his movements a little slower than before. “I feel f-funny.” 

 

“Good, kid, that’s a good thing. Does your arm still hurt?” 

 

When Peter nods, Tony feels his hope plummet. 

 

Bruce frowns, checking the I.V one more time. “Okay, Peter, that’s alright. Let me know if it starts to not hurt.” 

 

Peter nods and settles back down against Tony’s side, seemingly satisfied with that answer. Tony, on the other hand, isn’t and he reaches out for Bruce when the doctor passes by. 

 

“Can’t you give him a little more?” The Billionaire asks. “Just until it doesn’t hurt?” 

 

But his friend shakes his head, moving to the cabinet in the corner and grabbing a large, lamp like structure from the ceiling. He walks it over, picking up a sheet of thin, black paper on the way.  

 

“Okay, Pete, can you move to the foot of the bed for me? I’m gonna need you to try and stretch your arm out onto this paper, okay? That way we can see exactly where the break is located.” 

 

Shifting to where his uncle pointed, Peter slowly moves his arm onto the sheet, gritting his teeth as his whole side thumps with pain. Gripping his dad with his other hand, the boy holds his breath as Bruce takes a couple of quick pictures. 

 

“Alright, buddy, you can relax for a few minutes while these develop. Tony, see if you can get him to drink some water, he needs to be hydrated if it needs to be reset.” 

 

Taking the offered cup when Bruce holds it out, Tony gently sits both his and his son up, shifting so that Peter is cradled in his lap, the boy’s head propped against his shoulder. 

 

“Here,  _cucciolo_ , drink up.” Tilting the cup into his child’s mouth, Tony waits until Peter has taken a few sips before pulling back. “How are you feeling, bud?” 

 

“Hurts.” A whimper and Tony feels his heart break a little more. “C-Cold.”

 

“Must be the shock, I’ll have to check his head for a concussion after we get his arm all sorted out.” Bruce speaks up from a darkened room a few feet away. “Try to keep him awake and warm.” 

 

Peter blinks up at his father, his doe eyes bright with pain. Tony gently kisses his forehead once more, keeping his lips against his child’s temple as he rubs his hands up and down Peter’s un-hurt arm. 

 

Finally, Bruce walks back into the main Med area, his face pinched. 

 

“What?” Tony asks, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?” 

 

Bruce sighs harshly, holding out a copy of Peter’s X-Ray’s to the billionaire. “It seems we need a fraction reduction-- to reset his bone. With his super healing, it healed wrong and if we leave it, well, he might not be able to use his hand.” 

 

Peter lifts his head at this, turning a wide and panicked stare onto his uncle as he flinches back. 

 

“No,” He says, voice clogged with fear. “No, please.” 

 

“Hey,” Tony soothes, his tone as soft as honey and just as smooth. “Hey, baby, it’s okay. Shh, just focus on me, okay? Don’t look at anything but me. I’m right here.” 

 

And Peter does. 

 

Even when Bruce begins to rub his arm with a sterilizing solution, Peter doesn’t look away from his father’s eyes. His gaze is held there, the man’s warm hands coming up to cup his cheeks and rub at his temples with his thumbs, their foreheads resting together. 

 

“Peter,” Bruce speaks up, his voice muffled by his surgeons mask. “I’m going to start reseting your hand now. Tony, keep him still for me, please.”

 

Peter tenses and feels Tony’s arms tightening around him. Burying his head further into his dad’s chest, Peter muffles his cry of pain against the man’s soft t-shirt, feeling his tears soaking into the cotton. 

 

Finally, it’s over and the boy relaxes, silent tears slipping from his eyes. The scratch of his father’s goatee against his forehead is comforting and Peter leans into the touch, a whine slipping from his lips when he is made to sit up once more. 

 

“We just have to put a cast on your arm, bud, and then you can be done.” 

 

Tony’s too quick for that though. “What about his concussion?” 

 

Bruce rolls his eyes a little, lifting up different colored cloths for the boy to see. “After we look at your head then. What color do you want, kiddo?” 

 

Peter looks between all the choices before deciding on the most obvious. “R-Red please.” 

 

Tony smiles as Bruce starts to gently wrap up Peter’s arm. “That’s a good color, _bambino_.” 

 

“Reminds me of you.” 

 

Peter can feel the way Tony swallows, his father’s arms tightening. “You know what red reminds _me_ of, buddy?” 

 

Peter peeks up at Tony, flinching a little as Bruce tightens the cast one last time. “What?” 

 

“It reminds me of that brave Peter Parker kid.” Gently bumping Peter’s chin with his hand, Tony smiles down at him, his eyes twinkling. “And I’ve heard that Spider-Guy is pretty cool too.” 

 

Peter’s eyes widen before he giggles, his body shaking against Tony’s. The man joins in after a second, combing his fingers through his kid’s hair. 

 

“Hey, buddy,” Tony says after they calm down. “What do you say, after Brucie looks at your head, we go downstairs, I sign your cast and get you a cookie?” 

 

Peter frowns. “But I-I thought I would be in trouble?” 

 

“Oh, you are, trust me. But after this scare, I think we both deserve to watch some movies and relax on the couch.” 

 

“Can I at least have two cookies then?”

 

“Don’t push your luck, kiddie.”

 

Nodding eagerly, Peter can barely keep still as Bruce checks his head. Finally, his uncle gives him the okay and Peter allows Tony to help him down from the bed. 

 

“Thank you, Bruce.” Tony says quietly, voice barely above a whisper. 

 

The mutant waves him off, beginning to wash his hands off. “I’m just glad it wasn’t worse than it was. Make sure that son of yours keeps his arm clean and stops doing dives into the kitchen floor.” 

 

“Can do. Come back in a week right?” 

 

“You got it. Bye Peter, let me know if you need more medication or if it starts to hurt worse please.” 

 

His dad’s hand on his arm is gentle and Peter waves a quick bye to Bruce before they make it into the elevator. Wrapping his arm around his kid’s shoulders, Tony presses a quick kiss against Peter’s forehead. 

 

“Let’s go watch some Disney movies, kiddo.”

 

“. . .And give me two cookies?” 

 

Tony laughs. “We’ll see,  _il mio cuore._ We’ll see.”

 

Peter does, in fact, get his two cookies. 

 

And if Tony gives him one more when Peter flashes him the puppy eyes and pouts a little, well, no one has to know

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos make my day and comments fuel my writing ;)


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